Honey-Chipotle Sweet Potato Soup

Sometimes when I can’t think of anything to write, I don’t write anything at all.  I could expound upon my writers block, but instead, I thought I’d just start writing. I have grand plans of things to share with all of you for the holidays; food gifts I’m planning to give, appetizer party fare, and general bustling in the kitchen.  I don’t blog as much as I would like, mostly because I am simultaneously right-brained and perfectionistic.  I’m like a kid with a handful of confetti.  I throw all the pieces up into the air, fancy free, and then, through the process of creating the recipe, experimenting with photography, and fussing over what to write, I slowly tie up the pieces into blog entries.

The perfectionism creeps in at different places during the process, and I use the term “perfectionism” loosely, as this mostly means I wait until it feels right before moving onto the next step–it could be looking for the “perfect” recipe idea, or the photograph that helps an ingredient shine, or the perfect subject to write about.  I don’t want all the potential of holiday food blogging to pass me by just because I’m overwhelmed with wrapping my ideas in neat little packages.

This sweet potato soup, as is typical for me, was born out of a scribbled idea in my food-writing journal, and came together on the spot, for a last minute dinner with the mister and the mother in law.  I envisioned a silky smooth soup, honey-laced, smoky and sweet, with slow-building chipotle spice. I debated over how to incorporate the chipotle into the soup, finally deciding to toss the sweet potatoes, onions and garlic in the adobo sauce and chopped chilies and roast it all up in the oven, as is my default in the winter.  I whirred it up with some homemade vegetable broth, and served with a drizzling of olive oil and a scattering of toasted pepitas.  We could taste each component of the soup, from the sweetness of the honey-infused sweet potato puree, to the smokiness from the chipotle chiles.  The roasted onion and garlic lent depth in flavor, and rounded out the sweetness of the potatoes.

I hereby resolve to lasso a little more of my confetti this holiday season.  How about you?  Do you need more lassoing, or could you use a bit more confetti in your life?

Honey-Chipotle Sweet Potato Soup

Makes 6-8 servings

Using a whole can of chipotle chiles yields a moderately spicy, but still balanced soup.  (Update:  Some readers found a whole can of chipotle chiles to be too spicy.  Feel free to adjust the amount of chiles according to your tastes)

3 1/2 pounds orange-fleshed sweet potatoes or yams, peeled and cut into 1 inch pieces

1 large onion, peeled, trimmed, and cut into 1 inch wedges

8 cloves garlic, peeled

3 tablespoons canola oil

3 to 4 tablespoons honey, divided

1 can (7 ounces) chipotle chiles in adobo sauce (to taste, according to level of heat desired.)

kosher salt

6 to 8 cups vegetable broth

3/4 cups pepitas (pumpkin seeds), toasted

Extra virgin olive oil, to garnish

Preheat the oven to 425˚F.  Finely chop the chipotle chiles, reserving the adobo sauce.  In a large bowl, combine the sweet potatoes, onion, garlic, cloves, the adobo sauce, chopped chiles, canola oil, 3 tablespoons honey, and 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt.  Toss well to coat.  Spread in a single layer on two foil-lined baking sheets.  Roast in the oven for about 45 minutes, trading the position of the pans halfway through, until the potatoes are soft and are dark golden in spots.

Put the roasted vegetables into a large saucepan.  Add 6 cups of the vegetable broth and bring to a simmer over medium heat.  Reduce heat to low and simmer for 20 minutes.  Puree the soup using an immersion blender, or in batches in a normal blender.  Be careful if blending hot soup in the blender–do so in small batches and hold the top on with a kitchen towel to avoid an eruption.  Add the remaining 2 cups of broth as needed to thin out the soup.  Season to taste with kosher salt, black pepper, and an additional tablespoon of honey if desired.

Garnish with a swirl of olive oil, a scattering of toasted pepitas, and a grinding of black pepper.

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Slow Cooker Mulling Spiced Applesauce


Every Sunday, I get out of bed earlier than the mister (teacher schedules are hard to break, even on the weekend!) and pad across the hallway, in my slippers, into the kitchen.  I delight in these morning hours, using the time to read cookbooks, write, and experiment in the kitchen.  When I found a recipe for applesauce in one of the best slow cooker books I’ve come across thus far, I thought, now why didn’t I think of that?  Ever since then, like clockwork, I buy twelve apples on Saturday, and wake up Sunday to begin my new weekly ritual.

Step one:  I always daydream, if only briefly, about having an apple peeler–you know, one of those that winds the apple around a little metal loop, sending ribbons of peel into neat little piles on the cutting board.  I don’t have one, but the truth is, I like the process of peeling around the stem while turning each apple in my hand, and the satisfying chk chk of the peeler.  Being the band geek and music teacher that I am, I get a cheap thrill out of the rhythmic thwaps of multicolored apple pieces flying all over my butcher block all disorganized and random, some faced up, some down.

Now, if you’ve ever read a Cook’s Illustrated recipe, you know that they are obsessed with repetition and variation–trying every possibility, even the slightly ridiculous, to eventually arrive at “the” recipe.  For the past four weekends , I’ve been making like a CI test kitchen.  There have been Granny Smiths, Galas, Fujis and Honeycrisps, sprinkled with granulated sugar and raw sugar, cooked on high and on low, spiced with cinnamon only, and, most recently, (and deliciously might I add), mulling spices–both mixes of whole spices, and those in tea bags.

The process happens like this:  Peel, core, and cut your apples into big chunks.  Stick ‘em in the slow cooker.  Toss with sugar, turn on the slow cooker (seems obvious, one would think), and do something else for 6-8 hours. No use adding the spices until the apples collapse and give you some liquid to nestle them into.  Let the mulling spices steep for a while, then coax the apples into a sauce by smooshing and smoothing the apples against the side of the pot with a wooden spoon until you have your desired texture–I like mine with soft little chunks of apple remaining.  Add more sugar and ground cinnamon, and you’re good to go!  Ever so complicated, I know.

There are still infinite possibilities to be tried, but my favorite variation (so far) tastes just like the applesauce that grandma always used to bring to Thanksgiving in a big pot (hi grandma!), and tastes like a mug of mulled cider.  I like it warm, just out of the slow cooker, or when cold, atop my favorite potato-apple latkes.

I hereby pass my weekly ritual to you.  Happy fall, and happy Thanksgiving!

Mulling-Spiced Slow Cooker Applesauce

Makes 8 Servings (2 quarts)

Adapted from Art of the Slow Cooker by Andrew Schloss

1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

4 Granny Smith apples

8 large tart-sweet apples, such as Gala, Fuji, Braeburn, or Honeycrisp

2 to 4 tablespoons sugar (I like to use raw sugar, but granulated works just as well)

1 tablespoon mulling spices, tied in cheesecloth or tea bag*

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon, or to taste

Mix the vinegar and one gallon cold water in a large bowl. Peel the apples and place them in the vinegar water as soon as they are peeled.   Cut the apples in half lengthwise and scoop out the core with a melon baller.  Put the cut apples back into the vinegar water until needed.  When finished coring, remove the apples from the water (discarding the water), cut into 1-to 2- inch chunks.  Toss the apples in the slow cooker with 2 tablespoons of sugar.  Cover the cooker and cook the apples on low for 6-8 hours, or on high for 3-4 hours, or until the apples are completely tender.  Stir the apples with a wooden spoon–they should immediately collapse and form a chunky sauce.  Nestle the mulling spice satchel in the applesauce, cover, and cook for an additional hour.  Remove the mulling spices, and smash and smoosh the apples against the inside of the pot until the sauce is your desired texture.  Add cinnamon and additional sugar to taste.

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Whole Wheat Pumpkin Walnut Bread

Three autumns ago, the mister and I became homeowners.  We sat in our cold, messy house, the blue-white light reflecting from the snow outside into our curtain-less bedroom. The kitchen was bare, our pots and pans stacked in boxes somewhere.  After the big drumroll of finding the house, getting approved for a loan, and hastily packing our things from our little apartment, we finally made it, and I didn’t know how to feel.  Would this place ever feel like home?

Our last place, a sunny little two bedroom apartment on the second floor, was a little tight.  We faced a park, and were surrounded by retired couples with names like Rowena and Art.  Sure, I had to keep my canning pot on top of the dryer in the hallway, and yes, it was a little tricky to prep food on two feet of counter space, but we made it work, and it felt like home.

I’m a nester.  Invite me over for any amount of time, and you’re bound to find souvenirs of my presence everywhere.  I’ll use your blankets, ensconce myself in your comfiest chair and leave books and reading glasses on your coffee table.  I’ll snoop in your kitchen, and examine pictures and shopping lists stuck with magnets to your refrigerator.  I’ll even make you a meal out of random ingredients in your pantry if you let me.

The problem was, I hadn’t nested yet.  Everything I needed to cook a good meal was in boxes stacked up in the garage.  Thinking of my dutch oven so cold and lonely in a box somewhere made me sad.  Whenever the house feels gloomy, I cook.  But here I was, my belly utterly unsatisfied by the least offensive fast food I could find, dreaming about the day I would unpack my spices and make something worth talking about.

On a recent Sunday night, the front door was nice and steamy from the simmering vegetable broth and spiced pumpkin bread I had made earlier that afternoon.  Two friends came over for a last minute get together.  They walked in, greeted by Luca’s enthusiastic jumps and howls.  When the little fur tornado calmed down, we made our way into the kitchen.  Kim and Lori studied the pictures stuck to the fridge and examined my shopping lists and meal ideas.  We sliced into the still-warm pumpkin bread, puffed- up and proud, its top crust laden with toasted walnuts and crunchy raw sugar, and carried our steaming, mismatched tea cups to the living room.

The best way to eat pumpkin bread is with one’s hands, and we began to pull warm bite-sized pieces from our slices, bits of moist crumb and toasted walnut falling back onto our plates.  Almost like the steam releasing suddenly from a pressure cooker, Kim sunk into the corner of the couch, and sighed, “It’s just so cozy in here”. It finally dawned on me.

Ahh, okay.  Here we are.

Whole Wheat Pumpkin Walnut Bread

Adapted from The Art and Soul of Baking by Cindy Mushet

Makes One 9 x5 inch loaf

As it was, this pumpkin walnut bread was the best I had ever tasted, but it’s in my nature to tweak recipes, no matter how good. In this case, I replaced the white flour with whole wheat pastry flour, which turned out to be just as moist as the original.  The raw sugar on top adds a crackly crunch.  This pumpkin walnut bread comes together easily and freezes beautifully when double-wrapped in plastic and placed inside a freezer bag.  

  • 2 cups whole wheat pastry flour*
  • 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon allspice
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 2 large eggs, at room temperature
  • 1/3 cup water
  • 1 1/2 cups sugar
  • 1 cup canned pumpkin puree
  • 1/2 cup canola oil
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 cup chopped toasted walnuts
  • 1 teaspoon raw sugar

1) Preheat the oven to 350˚F and place an oven rack in the middle position.   Lightly coat a 9 x5-inch loaf pan with butter and line with parchment paper.

2) In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, allspice, cloves, ginger and salt until throughly incorporated.  In a separate bowl, whisk together the eggs and water.  Add the sugar and whisk until blended.  Add the pumpkin puree, canola oil and vanilla extract.  Stir until combined.

3) Add the pumpkin mixture to the bowl with the dry ingredients, and stir until well blended.  Add 3/4 cup of the walnuts and stir until evenly distributed.  Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and level the top.  Scatter the raw sugar and remaining 1/4 cup chopped walnuts over the top of the batter.

4) Bake for 55 to 65 minutes, until the top crust is dark golden and firm, and a toothpick just barely comes out clean. Allow to cool for 25 minutes before cutting.  Leftovers can be stored for 2 days at room temperature if wrapped in plastic, or up to 4 days in the refrigerator.

*All-purpose flour can be substituted for the whole wheat pastry flour.  

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Sweet Chile-Pineapple Glazed Tofu with Mixed Veggie Stir Fry

The Mystery of the Lost Cookbook

Through the front door lies my not-so-secret addiction.  Some are old–very old, in fact, with quirky tattered covers and retro illustrations.  Others are new, their seductive pages splashed with enticing photos.  My cookbook gluttony stretches across nations, genres, and subjects.  One would think a missing cookbook would be no big deal, but there they sit, 94 in all, the 95th missing in action, and just when I’m craving my favorite crispy sweet chile glazed tofu.

Tracing my steps meal by meal, I thought back to moving boxes and friends’ dinner parties, but couldn’t crack the case.  Maybe it was Colonel Mustard in the dining room, or Mrs. White in the conservatory…Or, perhaps, I accidentally returned it to my library along with my other borrowed books.  In any case, it’s gone, and I have been haunted by its memory ever since.

I can still see the creamy white pages of The Best International Recipe, spotted with rogue splats of oil and sauce.  I used to think that some of the explanations were a little type-A, but what’s Cook’s Illustrated for if not to test all the methods that I lack the time to test on my own?

I pouted for a while, then did what any sane girl would do, and tried to recreate the recipe from memory.  The details were a bit hazy, and as with all recollections of the past, my mind has embellished the original a bit.  I did, however, remember the tofu in detail–coated with cornstarch and cornmeal, fried until golden and audibly crispy when snacked on pre-dinner (cook’s prerogative).

I had to do a little playing with the glaze.  I knew the basics–chile garlic sauce, sugar, and cornstarch.   My spotty memory told me that the glaze included pineapple juice, but I’m pretty sure I made that part up.  No matter though, the glaze was just what I was after–sticky, sweet, sour and spicy with a hint of pineapple.  To accompany, the mister suggested broccolini from the garden, onion, red bell pepper and carrot (which complemented the tofu nicely).  I stir-fried the veggies simply in oil and added soy sauce and a drizzle of sesame oil at the end.  I’m sure I’ve taken some liberties in my re-creation of this dish, but the essence of the dish was as I remembered it.

Dear cookbook:  I’ve missed your neurotic attention to detail.  I saved a space for you on your favorite shelf.  Please come home.

Sweet Chile Pineapple-Glazed Tofu with Mixed Veggie Stir Fry

Inspired by The Best International Recipe from Cook’s Illustrated

This recipe, like most stir fries, can be adapted to your tastes and what is fresh and available.  The veggies are added based on how long they take to cook, and stir-fried until crisp-tender.  Orange juice can be subbed for the pineapple juice, for a different spin.   

Makes 4 servings (when served over rice)

Glaze:

  • 1 cup pineapple juice
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1 tablespoon sugar
  • 2-3 tablespoons chile garlic paste, such as sambal oelek (to taste depending on desired level of spiciness)*
  • 1 tablespoon soy sauce
  • 2 teaspoons rice vinegar
  • 1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch

Tofu:

  • 1 block medium-firm tofu (14 ounces), cut into 1-inch cubes
  • 3/4 cups cornstarch
  • 1/4 cup cornmeal
  • salt to taste
  • Canola oil, for frying

Stir Fry:

  • 1 medium (or two small) onion, cut into bite-sized squares
  • 1 red bell pepper, sliced into short strips
  • 3 medium carrots, peeled and thinly sliced
  • 1 small head broccoli or broccolini, cut into bite-sized pieces (the stem may be thinly sliced)
  • 2 green onions, thinly sliced
  • 1 tablespoon canola oil
  • 1 tablespoon sesame oil
  • 1 tablespoon soy sauce

For the glaze:

Whisk all of the glaze ingredients in a small saucepan.  Cook over medium-high heat, whisking constantly, until the glaze bubbles and thickens.  Cover and set aside.

Stir Fry the Vegetables:

Heat the oil in a wok, large frying pan, or saucepan.  Add the onions, bell pepper, and carrot and cook for 4-5 minutes, stirring often, until almost crisp-tender.  Add the broccoli, soy sauce and sesame oil.  Cook for an additional 2 minutes, or until all the vegetables are crisp-tender.

Coat and Fry the tofu:

Place the tofu on a plate lined with a few layers of paper towels to drain.  Place a few layers of paper towels on top of the tofu, and press gently to extract more of the moisture.  Once drained, season the tofu with salt.

Mix the cornstarch with the cornmeal and salt in a small bowl.  Fill a non-stick saucepan with 1 1/2 inches of canola oil, and heat over medium-high heat until shimmering.

Working in batches, toss the tofu in the cornstarch mixture to thoroughly coat.  Fry the tofu immediately after coating until golden and crispy.  Spread the tofu on a plate lined with a few layers of paper towels to drain.

Mix it all together:

Put the fried tofu into the wok with the vegetables.  Pour the glaze over, and gently toss until thoroughly coated.  Garnish with the green onion and serve while hot.

*Sambal Oelek can be found in the Asian aisle of most grocery stores

 

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Layered Quinoa “Ratatouille”: A Post in Pictures

Just a short, simple post today, as a send-off to my favorite season.   Life’s feels complicated right now, but I can’t help but feel gratitude for the bounty of my garden, and for my girlfriends who wined and dined with me while my other half was in Amsterdam on business for 11 days.  This meal was the perfect celebration of all of the above.  Without further ado…

Quinoa “Ratatouille”

Serves 8-10

Part roasted vegetable lasagna, part ratatouille, this end of summer dish is the perfect way to celebrate your last and best garden picks.  This is slow food–Don’t make it when you’re in a hurry.  Take the time to slow roast the tomatoes, letting them collapse into a complex, jammy sauce.  If you are running short on time, don’t have access to enough fresh tomatoes, or just don’t have enough oven space, follow the recipe for canned tomatoes. The eggplant, red bell peppers, squash and eggplant should be spotted golden on the outside, and will melt with buttery smoothness on the inside.  

For the Vegetables:

2 small eggplants (or 1 medium), cut into 1/4 inch sheets

1 medium yellow squash, cut into 1/4 inch sheets

1 medium zucchini, cut into 1/4 inch sheets

2 red bell peppers, cored and sliced into sheets

olive oil

kosher salt

For the Quinoa:

1 1/2 cups dry quinoa, rinsed well and drained

3 cups water (scant)

2 small sprigs rosemary, finely chopped

1/4 cup chopped fresh basil leaves

1 tablespoon chopped oregano leaves

1/4 cup grated parmesan, plus more for garnish (optional)

1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 recipe Slow-Roasted or Slow-Simmered Tomato Sauce (see below)

Process

1)To ensure good timing, start making the slow-roasted tomato sauce first.

2) Preheat the oven to 400˚F.  Place the vegetables in a large bowl.  Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with kosher salt and toss to coat.  Arrange the sliced red bell pepper, zucchini, yellow squash and eggplant in a single layer on two baking sheets.  Roast in the preheated oven for 35-45 minutes.  Check the vegetables sporadically, as some will cook faster than others.  Remove pieces that are softened and specked golden, then allow the remaining vegetables to finish cooking.

  1. Place the washed quinoa and a scant 3 cups of water in a medium saucepan.  Bring to a boil, then immediately reduce heat to a simmer and cook for 12 minutes.  Remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly.
  2. Stir the olive oil, herbs, parmesan (if using) and kosher salt into the quinoa.
  3. Reduce the oven heat to 375˚F.  Spread a layer of tomato sauce in the bottom of an 8 x 11’’ casserole dish, followed by a layer of roasted vegetables, then the quinoa mixture.  Repeat in the same order–sauce, vegetables, and ending with quinoa, until all ingredients are used.  Sprinkle the top lightly with parmesan.
  4. Bake for 25-35 minutes, until the sauce layers bubble and the top is golden in places.

Slow-Roasted Tomato Sauce

Any type of ripe tomatoes can be used here, although paste tomatoes such as Romas or San Marzanos will yield a thicker sauce.  I prefer to use a mix of paste and slicing tomatoes.  To ease up the oven for roasting vegetables, make this sauce the night before and chill until needed.  

4 pounds fresh ripe tomatoes

6 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed with the side of a knife

1/2 cup olive oil

kosher salt

1) Preheat the oven to 325˚F.  Halve and core the larger tomatoes and remove most of the seeds.  Arrange the tomatoes face down in a single layer on two rimmed baking sheets.  Place three smashed garlic cloves on each pan.  Drizzle each pan with olive oil (1/4 cup for each pan), and sprinkle generously with kosher salt.

2) Roast in the oven for 90 minutes to 2 hours, or until the tomatoes have collapsed, and released much of their liquid into the pan.  Check the tomatoes periodically, and if they begin to cook too quickly, turn the oven heat down.  Smaller tomatoes will take less time to roast.  Remove from the oven and allow to cool slightly.  Pull offthe skins from most of the larger tomatoes.  They should slip off easily.  If not, cook the tomatoes for longer.

3) Smash the tomatoes and garlic cloves with a wooden spoon until you have a semi-smooth sauce that still has some tomato texture.

Slow-Simmered Garlic Tomato Sauce

2 28-ounce cans good quality whole tomatoes

1 small head garlic, cloves peeled and minced

extra virgin olive oil

kosher salt to taste

crushed red pepper flakes to taste

small bunch fresh oregano, leaves picked and chopped

Heat a few large glugs of olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat until shimmering.  Add the garlic and saute, stirring frequently until the garlic is softened and is just barely beginning to turn golden.  Immediately add the canned tomatoes and reduce the heat to medium.  Cook the sauce at slightly above a simmer for 35-45 minutes, occasionally stirring and crushing the tomatoes with a wooden spoon. Once the sauce has thickened and most of the tomatoes have broken down, season to taste with kosher salt, and add the crushed red pepper and fresh oregano.  Simmer for an additional 10 minutes.

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